


The Alien

by theramblinrose



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:27:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23917525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theramblinrose/pseuds/theramblinrose
Summary: Mulder and Scully, one shot.  Alien abductions had a way of changing anyone—and that’s what Mulder had decided was behind the change in Scully.
Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Comments: 4
Kudos: 20





	The Alien

AN: I wrote this just for entertainment. I’m (finishing up) Season 1 of the show, and I’m already in love with Mulder and Scully. 

I’m not going to pretend that this is supposed to be some profound piece of literature or some amazingly in-character story. It’s just my first little X-Files one shot that I simply wanted to write. 

I own nothing from The X-Files.

I hope you enjoy! If you’re so inclined, let me know what you think! 

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The soft melodic sound of singing greeted Fox Mulder as he stirred a cup of coffee—heavy on the cream, the way she’d liked it lately and ever since her tastes had started changing. It was, perhaps, too late for coffee for most people, but the night was young and the coffee was decaf. The night, really, was very young for the both of them. Mulder’s own coffee was black, and it had been cooling a moment on the counter while he’d been preparing the cup that he would serve to Dana Scully—only she didn’t know it yet. 

She probably wouldn’t be able to smell even the strong smell of her current favorite brew over the sweet scent of lavender and powder that always followed her these days.

The singing was soft and low. It was barely more than a hum. Just hearing it, drifting through the house, made Mulder laugh to himself.

If someone had told him, three years ago, when he’d first met Scully and accepted that she would be his partner, that she’d be humming and singing little songs for half the day, he never would have believed them. Not Scully. 

Scully was serious. She was no nonsense. She was rational explanations, and logical thoughts, and don’t-get-carried-away-Mulder. She was a bored expression and a semi-amused eyeroll.

She was not happy smiles, contented hums, and sweet little songs sung just loud enough to be heard without being harsh to the ears.

Of course, alien abductions had a way of changing anyone.

The thing about all alien abductions was that, most of the time, the exact moment of abduction was practically impossible to pinpoint. There was time that seemed to be lost. There were memories that were fuzzy if not completely forgotten. It wasn’t until well after the abduction had taken place that most people even knew they were abducted. Usually it was some strange behavior that indicated abduction or, in some cases, the evidence of something left behind from the abduction.

In Scully’s case, they were able to reasonably pinpoint the date and time of abduction. They retained most of their memories from the surrounding events, though neither Scully nor Mulder had been aware of the abduction at the time that it took place. It was almost a month and a half after the abduction before they became aware of it at all, really. First, as in the case of many abductions, Scully had begun show some mildly strange behavior. There had started to be little things that were simply out of the ordinary for her. She’d suddenly wanted her coffee different, nearly every day, and she’d begun to dislike things that she’d always liked before. She’d become a much pickier partner—at least when it came to choosing where and when they stopped to grab a bite to eat. Her normal energy level had seemed zapped, and Mulder had noticed that, more than once, she’d dozed a little if things got quiet and still. If the case wasn’t interesting, or the information they were looking over together had too much of a lull to it, Agent Dana Scully could sometimes be found nodding off and even quietly snoring—though she would argue to the death that she didn’t snore. She’d begun snoring, though, right around the time they’d begun to suspect the abduction. 

A thorough medical examination had confirmed their suspicions—or at least, it confirmed Mulder’s suspicions. There must have been an abduction. The aliens had even left evidence behind—one of their own kind. After Scully had a moment of declaring that she didn’t know how such a thing was possible, and that it couldn’t be possibly be real, Mulder had shared his abduction theory with her. She, of course, didn’t believe him, and she’d later settled into accepting her own ideas about how such a lifeform had come to be, but she humored Mulder like she did with many things. The tiny being left in their care was helpless and weak. Like a parasite, it attached to Scully and fed off her body for months. It changed a great deal about her, but Mulder thought that all of its changes were for the best, even if she might not have seen it that way—a few times and at some of the strangest hours.

She’d been dedicated to the tiny alien, though. She’d been curious to see what it would look like. What it would be like. What it would grow up to be in the future. Mulder had been dedicated to the little creature, as well. 

The alien had prompted the purchase of a new house between them—just far enough outside of the city that they could still get to work without trouble, but they could count on having the tranquility they would need to raise their little alien the way they wanted. The alien had prompted Mulder to tear down old wallpaper and to paint one room of the house in soothing, tranquil colors that a little alien, brand new to the world, would find comforting. The alien had been the driving force behind a great deal of purchases so that they would have everything they needed to best care for the alien when it moved beyond its parasitic state.

The alien had changed Scully’s tastes a great deal. It had tortured her body, in a number of ways, and it had drawn tears from an otherwise sensible woman who had been sure that she’d never recover from the abduction and subsequent nurturing of the alien being. It had softened her in a lot of ways, though—all wonderful ways. It had prompted her to smile more, often overcome with affections that she didn’t expect to have so strongly, in the beginning, for the alien being. 

The alien had only reminded Mulder of what an incredible, strong, beautiful, amazing woman Dana Scully actually was. 

And when the proper incubation period for an alien being was done, Scully had delivered the alien into the world to live as a fully independent being—barring the years it would need their assistance to grow and learn—and she’d allowed Mulder to be there, holding her hand and coaching her through the process that was entirely new to the both of them. 

Now that Scully was dedicated to caring for the tiny alien—now that they both were—Mulder was pleased to see that some of the changes that the alien had made to Scully, while it had taken up residence in her body, had remained. 

The soft, sweet, melodic singing, for instance, was welcomed. In a way that he couldn’t explain, it made Mulder’s heart beat a little differently in his chest, like it was seeking to match its rhythm with that of the rise and fall of Scully’s voice.

Mulder carried both cups of coffee as he padded in bare feet toward the room where he knew he’d find her—surrounded by the happy, cartoonish animals that they hoped would stimulate and amuse their growing alien. The singing softened to humming as Mulder neared the room, and he pushed the partially open door with his foot to make enough room for himself to pass inside. 

Scully stopped humming. She looked over her shoulder, surprised, with her mouth open. At first, she looked at him like she expected him to be something straight out of one of their X-Files, or as though she expected him to be one of the aliens, fresh off the mothership, returning to take back their little ward.

She looked ready, too, to fight—whether it was an alien or another X-File worthy opponent—if anything coming through the door had moved too quickly toward the tiny being that she was busy pampering. There was something in her eyes, and in the barely perceptible tensing of her muscles, that reminded Mulder of something he’d heard a thousand times before—there was nothing more dangerous than a mother protecting her young. 

He offered her a smile as her features softened and she let the surprised look be replaced by one of amusement that she couldn’t quite swallow down entirely.

“The only time you’re ever quiet, Mulder, is when I wish you wouldn’t be.” 

Mulder smiled to himself. 

“You’re wrong, Scully,” he offered. “I’m never quiet. You were just too focused on the alien to notice.” 

“Mulder,” Scully said, a touch of warning in her tone. 

Mulder smiled to himself and held up the coffee mug. 

“I brought you some fortification,” he said. “In case he’s got other ideas about ever letting us sleep again.” 

Scully finished her work, slathering the tiny being that controlled ever aspect of their lives in lotion, tucking him into a fresh diaper, and working her way through the dozens of tiny snaps. Mulder lacked Scully’s patience. The snaps he left for her. The zippers were his preferred way to dress the little one that—despite being an alien, as Mulder had named him when he’d been only a blip on a sonogram, who had only spent two weeks enjoying his freedom outside of Scully’s body—had Scully’s eyes and nose and a dusting of Mulder’s hair. 

Scully gathered up the dozing little alien, tucked him in the crook of her arm like she’d been doing it for years instead of weeks, and carried him over to the rocking chair. She eased herself down, carefully, in the chair with the little one. Mulder stood, coffee in hand, and watched as she situated the tiny creature to feed at her breast. This was what they did every night. Routine, after all, was important in the lives of those that would care for tiny little aliens—Mulder had read that in a book, but he never missed the opportunity to tease Scully that he’d read it in an X-File. 

When Scully was situated, Mulder rested the mug of coffee on the little table next to her. She leaned and glanced at it.

“I didn’t have the chance to put the coffee on,” Scully said, the quality of her voice giving away the fact that she was tired. The alien had been limiting their sleep since his emersion from Scully’s body. “You did remember that I should limit caffeine.” 

“Decaf, Scully,” Mulder said. He raised his mug in a pretend toast and drank down some of the cooling coffee. “It only offers the psychological persuasion that it should keep us awake. None of the stimulants that might actually make either one of us feel like we haven’t just spent three days on a stakeout.”

A hint of a smiled played at her lips. She admired the feeding alien at her breast. She let Mulder have the smallest hint of that smile.

“It’s worth it, isn’t it?” She mused.

Mulder smiled to himself. He was exhausted. His eyes felt gritty and they burned. He kept in decent shape, but every muscle in his body felt like he’d just had a ridiculous workout after years of being dormant. 

“Worth every minute of it,” he said, meaning the words with everything he had inside him. “Are we ready?” 

Scully simply hummed her confirmation that they were waiting on him to begin. Mulder took his seat, on the ottoman where Scully would, probably before it was all done for the night, rest her feet on his legs, and he reached for one of the books out of the small book rack where Scully had arranged the “Scully” approved books that had been given to them as shower gifts.

They’d been reading this one for a few days, since it was a little illustrated chapter book, and Mulder opened the book and found the page where they’d left off the night before—just at the moment when their little one had decided to doze for a couple of hours, and they’d practically raced from the room to take advantage of the precious moments allotted to them both to simply be together and sleep.

It was all worth it, though, and Mulder wouldn’t trade any of it—not for the world.

He found the page, cleared his throat, and started to read about the little alien that was looking for home—all the while stealing glances at the beautiful woman who had made him a home, and the little alien that had found them both.


End file.
